PART 4

For several seconds, nobody moved.
The hallway seemed to shrink around us.
Richard stood in front of me, his face drained of color.
Detective Harris looked between us.
Chloe remained seated beneath the watch of an officer, but she was no longer crying.
She was watching.
Waiting.
As if she already knew what was coming.
I looked at Richard.
—What name did Leo hear?
Richard swallowed.
—Paula, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
—He said the man called you by another name.
Richard’s eyes flickered.
Just once.
But I saw it.
Detective Harris saw it too.
—Mr. Mendoza?

Richard looked at him.

—What?

—Did your son say something that concerns you?

Richard hesitated.

—He’s five.

—And yet he apparently recognized a name connected to you.

Richard looked at me.

—What did he say?

I couldn’t get the words out.

My throat had closed.

So I wrote the name on my phone and showed it to him.

The moment Richard saw it, his face collapsed.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

Fear.

Real, uncontrollable fear.

He took one step backward.

—Where did he hear that?

I stared at him.

—That’s what I’m asking you.

—Paula—

—Where did he hear it?

He rubbed his forehead.

—Not here.

Detective Harris immediately stepped forward.

—Everyone stays right here.

Richard shook his head.

—I need to talk to my sister alone.

—No.

The detective’s voice was firm.

—Not right now.

Richard looked furious.

—That’s my sister.

—And this is now an active investigation involving two hospitalized children, suspected abuse, and a potentially related homicide investigation.

I froze.

—Homicide?

Detective Harris looked at me.

—I didn’t say homicide investigation.

—You just did.

He paused.

—I’m sorry.

—You said homicide.

Richard turned toward him.

—What do you know?

The detective sighed.

—Nothing confirmed.

—About my mother?

Silence.

That was enough.

My heart began pounding.

—What does my mother’s death have to do with this?

Detective Harris didn’t answer.

I stepped closer.

—Detective.

He looked at me.

—Seven years ago, your mother died.

—Yes.

—The official ruling was accidental.

—Yes.

—Are you certain?

I stared at him.

—Certain of what?

—That you know the complete story.

My mouth went dry.

I suddenly remembered that night.

The phone call.

The hospital.

Richard arriving before me.

The police officer telling me there was nothing suspicious.

The funeral.

The paperwork.

Everything had happened so quickly.

I had been twenty-six.

Richard had been thirty.

Chloe wasn’t even married to him yet.

At least, that’s what I remembered.

I looked at Richard.

—You told me she fell down the stairs.

Richard closed his eyes.

—Paula—

—You told me she had been drinking.

—I know.

—You told me the police said it was an accident.

—I know.

—You told me she was alone.

Richard didn’t answer.

My voice rose.

—Was she alone?

Chloe suddenly laughed.

It was quiet.

Almost a whisper.

Everyone turned toward her.

She looked at me.

—You really don’t know.

I walked toward her.

The officer immediately stepped between us.

—Stay back.

—What did you mean?

Chloe tilted her head.

—Your brother told you she was alone?

I looked at Richard.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

—Richard?

He whispered:

—I was there.

Everything stopped.

I couldn’t breathe.

—What?

—Paula, listen to me—

—You were there?

—I arrived afterward.

—That’s not what you said.

—I know.

—You said you weren’t there.

—I was scared.

—You lied to me.

—I was trying to protect you.

I laughed.

Not because anything was funny.

Because sometimes your body doesn’t know what else to do when the truth becomes too large.

—Protect me from what?

Richard looked at the floor.

Chloe answered for him.

—From your mother.

I turned toward her.

—Don’t.

—She wasn’t who you thought she was.

—You didn’t know her.

Chloe smiled.

—You’d be surprised.

Detective Harris moved toward Chloe.

—How do you know anything about Paula’s mother?

Chloe didn’t answer.

—Ma’am?

She looked at him.

—Because I was there too.

My stomach dropped.

—Seven years ago?

Chloe nodded.

Richard whispered:

—Chloe, stop.

She looked at him.

—Why?

—Because this has nothing to do with the children.

Chloe smiled.

—Everything has to do with the children.

Then she looked at me.

—That’s what you’ve never understood.

A nurse suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway.

—Paula?

I turned.

—Yes?

—Leo wants you.

I immediately walked toward the room.

Richard followed.

—I’m coming.

The nurse blocked him.

—He specifically asked for his aunt.

Richard stopped.

I entered alone.

Leo was awake.

His face was still pale, but his eyes were clearer now.

The IV dripped slowly beside him.

Rex rested against his chest.

I sat down.

—I’m here.

He looked at me.

—Did Dad come?

—He’s outside.

Leo nodded.

—Good.

—Why?

Leo hesitated.

Then he whispered:

—Because I don’t want Mom to know.

My stomach tightened.

—Know what?

He looked toward the door.

I leaned closer.

—You can tell me.

Leo’s little fingers squeezed the dinosaur.

—The man told Mom not to let Dad know.

—What man?

—The man who came at night.

—What did he look like?

Leo closed his eyes.

—Tall.

—Anything else?

—Black shirt.

—Hair?

He thought.

—No hair.

I felt a chill.

—Was he bald?

Leo nodded.

—Did he have a beard?

Another nod.

—Did you know him?

Leo shook his head.

—But he knew Dad.

—What did he call him?

Leo whispered the same name.

The name from seven years ago.

I felt sick.

—Leo…

He looked at me.

—He said Dad was supposed to fix something.

—Fix what?

Leo’s eyes moved toward the hallway.

—The door.

—What door?

He pointed toward the closet.

My breathing stopped.

—The closet at home?

He nodded.

—He said the door was supposed to stay closed.

—Why?

Leo’s lips trembled.

—Because someone was inside.

I couldn’t move.

—Someone was inside the closet?

Leo nodded.

—Who?

He started crying.

—A lady.

I stood up.

—What lady?

He buried his face against Rex.

—She was crying.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

—Leo, when did you see her?

—Before Mom put me in the room.

—Was she in the closet?

He nodded.

—Did she speak to you?

Another nod.

—What did she say?

Leo whispered:

—She told me not to tell.

I felt the room spinning.

A woman.

Locked in a closet.

Seven years ago.

My mother.

I rushed into the hallway.

Detective Harris looked at me.

—What happened?

—The closet.

—What about it?

—There was someone inside.

His expression hardened.

—Who?

I looked at Richard.

—A woman.

Richard’s face turned white.

—No.

—Leo said she was crying.

—No.

—He said she told him not to tell.

Richard backed against the wall.

—No.

Detective Harris grabbed his arm.

—Mr. Mendoza, sit down.

Richard pushed him away.

—No!

His voice echoed.

Chloe began laughing.

Not loudly.

Just enough.

—There she is.

I turned.

—Who?

Chloe looked directly at me.

—Your mother.

The officer beside her frowned.

—What are you talking about?

Chloe smiled.

—Ask Paula’s brother.

I turned toward Richard.

—Was my mother at that house?

Richard stared at me.

His silence answered.

I felt something inside me crack.

—Was she?

He whispered:

—Yes.

The hallway became silent.

—Why?

Richard’s eyes filled with tears.

—Because she came to confront me.

—About what?

—About Chloe.

I stared at Chloe.

—You knew my mother?

—Of course.

—Why would my mother confront Richard about you?

Chloe’s expression changed.

For the first time, she looked genuinely tired.

—Because your mother knew what I was.

—What are you?

She looked at me.

—A liar.

I waited.

She continued.

—A manipulator.

Another pause.

—And someone who had already learned how to control your brother.

Richard whispered:

—Stop.

Chloe ignored him.

—Your mother figured it out.

—Figured what out?

Chloe looked toward Detective Harris.

—Your brother wasn’t the first man I destroyed.

Richard’s face twisted.

—Don’t.

—And he wasn’t the last.

Detective Harris stepped closer.

—Who else?

Chloe smiled.

—Ask Richard.

I turned.

—Richard?

He wouldn’t answer.

—Who?

He covered his face.

—There was someone before me.

—Who?

—A man.

—What man?

Richard slowly looked up.

—My business partner.

—What happened to him?

Silence.

Then:

—He disappeared.

My skin prickled.

—When?

—Six years ago.

I looked at Chloe.

She didn’t deny it.

—And my mother knew?

Richard nodded.

—She found evidence.

—What evidence?

—Financial records.

—Of what?

—Money transfers.

Detective Harris immediately took out his notebook.

—From whom?

Richard looked at Chloe.

—From a company that didn’t exist.

I stared at him.

—What does that have to do with Leo?

Richard’s eyes filled with tears.

—I don’t know.

Chloe laughed.

—Yes, you do.

Richard shook his head.

—No.

—You know exactly why they wanted the children.

I felt cold.

—Who is “they”?

Chloe didn’t answer.

Detective Harris stepped closer.

—Who is they?

She smiled.

—You really think this is about one family?

Nobody spoke.

Chloe continued.

—There are people who make problems disappear.

The detective’s expression hardened.

—Are you threatening someone?

—No.

—Then what are you saying?

—I’m saying Paula’s mother didn’t die because she fell down the stairs.

My breath caught.

Richard looked away.

I whispered:

—Then how did she die?

Chloe looked at me.

—She was pushed.

The words hit me with such force that I couldn’t move.

—Who pushed her?

Chloe’s eyes moved toward Richard.

I turned.

—Richard?

He began crying.

—It wasn’t me.

—Then who?

—I don’t know.

—You’re lying.

—I’m not!

—You were there.

—After!

—You knew she was there.

—I found her!

—And you lied to me.

—I was protecting you!

—From who?

Richard couldn’t answer.

Then a sound came from behind us.

A phone ringing.

Detective Harris looked down.

It was his phone.

He answered.

—Harris.

He listened.

His expression changed.

—You’re sure?

Pause.

—Did you check the second floor?

Another pause.

—And the basement?

His eyes moved toward me.

—Understood.

He hung up.

—What happened? I asked.

He hesitated.

—The officers found something else at your sister-in-law’s house.

My stomach tightened.

—What?

—A hidden room.

Richard stared at him.

—Where?

—Behind the closet.

I felt my blood turn cold.

—The closet Leo mentioned?

—Yes.

—What’s inside?

The detective looked at Chloe.

—That’s the problem.

—What?

—The room has been recently used.

Richard whispered:

—By whom?

Harris answered:

—We don’t know.

Then he looked at me.

—But there are photographs of both children.

My hands began shaking.

—How recent?

—Some were taken this week.

Richard looked horrified.

—Who was watching them?

The detective shook his head.

—We don’t know yet.

Then another officer came running down the hallway.

—Detective!

Harris turned.

—What?

The officer was breathing hard.

—You need to come see this.

—What did you find?

—A laptop.

—And?

—It’s still connected to the security cameras.

My stomach dropped.

—What security cameras?

The officer looked at me.

—The cameras inside the house.

Richard frowned.

—The house has exterior cameras.

—Not these.

The officer swallowed.

—There were cameras inside the children’s rooms.

Nobody spoke.

I looked toward Leo’s room.

Then Sophia’s.

Then back at the officer.

—For how long?

—We don’t know.

—Can you access the recordings?

The officer looked at Detective Harris.

—That’s why I’m here.

Harris followed him.

Richard started after them.

I grabbed his arm.

—Wait.

He turned.

—What?

—Did you know?

His eyes filled with tears.

—No.

—Look at me.

He did.

—Did you know there were cameras inside their rooms?

—No.

I believed him.

At least, I believed that answer.

Then Chloe spoke behind us.

—Richard knew.

We turned.

—Chloe, shut up.

She smiled.

—He just doesn’t remember.

Richard’s face hardened.

—What does that mean?

Chloe leaned back.

—Ask him about the basement.

Richard froze.

I looked at him.

—What basement?

He didn’t answer.

—Richard.

Nothing.

—What basement?

He whispered:

—Our old house.

—What about it?

—There was a room.

My heart began pounding.

—What room?

—A room my father built.

I stared at him.

—Dad built a hidden room?

He nodded.

—Why?

Richard looked at Chloe.

—For your mother.

I felt dizzy.

—Why would Dad build a hidden room for Mom?

Richard’s voice cracked.

—Because she was hiding from someone.

—Who?

He looked at me.

—The same man Leo saw.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message.

I opened it.

There was no text.

Only a photograph.

I stared at the screen.

It showed a little boy sitting on the floor.

Leo.

Five years old.

In the photograph, he was holding Rex.

Behind him was the same bedroom where I had found him.

The timestamp said:

TODAY — 2:13 PM

My blood froze.

I looked at the hospital clock.

It was 4:47 PM.

Someone had been watching Leo.

Today.

While he was in the hospital.

I showed Detective Harris.

His expression changed instantly.

—Don’t move.

He took my phone.

Then another message arrived.

This one had words.

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM IN THE ROOM.

I felt my stomach turn.

Then another.

NOW THEY KNOW YOU KNOW.

And then the final message.

LOOK BEHIND YOU.

I didn’t want to.

But I did.

Slowly.

The hallway behind me was crowded.

Nurses.

Visitors.

Officers.

Richard.

Chloe.

Everyone was there.

Everyone except one person.

The security guard who had helped rescue Sophia.

He was gone.

I looked toward the emergency entrance.

The doors were slowly closing.

Outside, a man in a black shirt was walking away.

Bald.

Bearded.

Tall.

My heart stopped.

—Detective.

Harris turned.

—What?

I pointed.

—That’s him.

The detective ran.

Two officers followed.

Richard stood frozen.

Chloe smiled.

And then she whispered something so quietly that only I heard it.

—Now you know why I locked the children away.

I turned toward her.

—What?

She looked into my eyes.

—Because the children saw him.

—Who is he?

Her smile disappeared.

—Your father.

I stopped breathing.

My father had been dead for twelve years.

At least…

that’s what I’d been told.

And suddenly, every lie my family had ever told me began to collapse at once.

The man in the black shirt disappeared through the hospital doors.

Detective Harris sprinted after him.

I ran too.

Richard followed.

And behind us, Chloe started screaming.

Not from fear.

From anger.

Because someone had just escaped.

And whatever that man knew about my mother, my brother, Leo, and the hidden room…

he was carrying the truth with him.

But I didn’t know yet that the most terrifying part wasn’t that he had escaped.

It was that he had left something behind.

Something deliberately.

Something meant for me.

When I reached the hospital entrance, Detective Harris was standing beside the automatic doors.

In his hand was a small envelope.

He looked at me.

—This was on the ground.

My name was written across the front.

PAULA MENDOZA.

My hands trembled as I took it.

—Don’t open it here, Detective Harris said.

—Why?

—Because we don’t know what’s inside.

I stared at the envelope.

Then I noticed something.

There was a second name written underneath mine.

A name I hadn’t heard in seven years.

My mother’s.

I looked at Richard.

He saw it.

And all the color drained from his face.

—Paula…

—What?

He whispered:

—Don’t open that.

—Why?

—Because if it’s what I think it is…

He couldn’t finish.

I tore the envelope open.

Inside was one photograph.

One handwritten note.

And a key.

The photograph showed my mother.

Alive.

Standing beside a little boy.

A boy who looked exactly like Leo.

Except the photograph was dated…

SEVEN YEARS BEFORE LEO WAS BORN.

I stared at it.

My hands went numb.

Then I read the note.

Only six words.

“Your mother knew who Leo really was.”

I looked up.

Richard was gone.

Chloe was gone.

The hallway suddenly felt empty.

And somewhere inside that hospital, an alarm began to sound.

Then another.

Then another.

A nurse came running toward me.

—Paula!

—What happened?

She grabbed my arm.

—The pediatric room.

My heart stopped.

—Leo?

She nodded.

—He’s gone.

I couldn’t breathe.

—What do you mean, gone?

—His IV is still attached.

—Where is he?

The nurse’s face was white.

—We don’t know.

Then she whispered:

—And Sophia is missing too.

I dropped the photograph.

The key hit the floor.

And from somewhere deep inside the hospital came the sound of a child’s voice.

Leo.

Calling my name.

—Aunt Paula…

I ran toward it.

But the voice wasn’t coming from Leo’s room.

It was coming from the basement.

The hospital basement.

And as I reached the stairwell, my phone vibrated one more time.

A new message.

From the unknown number.

COME ALONE.

Then another:

OR YOUR NEPHEW DIES.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 5…